


I know no other way than this

by Cibeeeee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, M/M, mild description of wound and lost limb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8693197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibeeeee/pseuds/Cibeeeee
Summary: Mcreyes Week Day 6: 29th - “Sacrifice”(Where a mission goes wrong, and McCree had to make a decision)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't the best, but I just wanted to at least contribute something to Mcreyes Week since it's almost coming to and end. Thank you for everyone that organized the event, and thank you for the people who participated so we could see so many awesome works!! Hope you all had a great week!

The very sense of motion stopped, when McCree saw Reyes went down.

It was a wonder he could see anything at that moment, really, with the edge of his vision dotted with black dots, and his head screamed from the pain of having half of his arm buried under the truck.

But McCree’s weakened mind jolted itself awake as he saw Reyes get shot, he called out to him, though it was too low to be heard.

Reyes didn’t pay the gunshot any mind at first, he kept running towards McCree as if unharmed. Commander Reyes had been shot multiple times during different missions and still carried on fighting without even the least bit of distress. A gunshot to the shoulder wasn’t going to stop him from getting to his wounded men. McCree thought sluggishly as he continued watching Reyes approach.

But then, Reyes stumbled.

McCree didn’t see it clearly at first. After a few seconds McCree finally realized that Reyes was slowing, his movement shaking, clenching his shoulder. Reyes stumbled and he dropped to the ground, kneeling. Struggling to stand, but falling to the ground.

McCree’s eyes widened as he saw something breaking the fog and approaching in the distance. A heavy armored truck. The truck stopped far away, seemingly not wanting to risk getting any closer. A few figures exited the vehicle, guns pointed at Reyes.

McCree sucked in a shuddered breath, they were not coming for the cargo.

He tried to pull his arm and bit back a scream, almost passing out from the pain. His arm was wet with blood, but burned like fire. McCree punched the ground and groaned. He tried to lift the truck with his feet, but it was too heavy and he was too weak. The men were getting closer to Reyes.

McCree dropped back to the ground and pulled again, not hard enough (wasn’t brave enough). He screamed into his fist. Nothing budged.

McCree panted, tears rolling down cheeks from the pain. He knew what he needed to do, he just needed to know how.

There was an army knife inside of his vest, but cutting through bones would take too long. Forcibly pulling would likely cause him to faint from the pain before he could even reach Reyes.

McCree whined, his mind was shutting down despite the panic that gnawed at him. He pressed his nose to the ground and squeezed his wound. McCree yelled from the pain, muffled by the dirt.

He was so scared. McCree reached for his gun and pressed the muzzle to his arm.

．．．．．

The instruction was simple. A team had already rigged the transport route with explosives. Each one several feet apart. They would wait, off the road, three hours before the estimated arrival of BW squad 1-B. They would create suspicion, G. Reyes would be required to make sure there were no danger before allowing his squad to move any further. When he leaves the cargo, the bomb closest to the cargo would set off. The sniper would take her shot, and they would retrieve Gabriel Reyes, leaving no witnesses.

The drone informed them the departure of the cargo and the approximate time that it would take for 1-B to get where the team were. Ten minutes later they saw the dot show up on their radar. They prepared their distraction. Eight minutes later the dot stopped. Two men exited from the military truck and went ahead to inspect. One of them was the target. The target stopped his men and went on ahead himself.

Ten seconds later the team put on their helmets.

Five seconds after the bomb went off. The blast caused the agent behind crashing onto the road, the truck flipped forward, and crashed.

“Retrieve the target first. 23-3, you will make sure there is no survivor.”

The captain motioned for the driver to drop them off at a safe distance from the target. Making sure the tranquilizer has taken full effect before attempting to confront the target.

“23-3, move out,” the captain whispered.

They walked slowly to the target. Their chief had warned them to be extra careful. Tranquilizers didn’t always work on SEP subjects.

There came a gunshot from the cargo, the team snapped their guns up.

“23-3, report! 65-2, go see what happened!” the captain ordered. “The rest of you, move it! Get the target now!”

Not ten second later, another shot rang out, but it was not the sound of their submachine rifle. The team broke into a run.

“Get him now!” the captain yelled. Two agents reached to pick the target up, but collapsed before their fingers even touched him.

They fell, bullet hole between their eyes.

“Where the fuck – ” the captain searched for the shooters while she barked at the rest of the team to get the target, but anyone that stepped close to the target would instantly gain a fatal shot in their head. The shooters were stopping them from getting any closer to Gabriel Reyes.

“Sniper W-34!” the captain said into her earpiece. “Do you have location on the shooters?”

Her earpiece cracked with static, and a mocking laugh rang through. “I’m afraid there is only one shooter, captain.”

“W-34, take them out now – ”

“I do not have a clear shot, pity.”

“W-34 – ” the captain cursed, and screamed. A bullet hit her in her right knee. She yelled: “Retreat! 64-3, pick us up!”

The remaining team followed her. Their truck swirled and the doors slide open.

“Mission failed,” the captain grunted into her earpiece, “An unknown shooter – ”

She never got to finish her words. The truck went up in flames.

．．．．．

McCree panted, peacekeeper still aimed towards the gas tank of the truck – well, there was no longer a truck.

_ An eye for an eye, assholes.  _ McCree groaned, wanting so much to lay down and puke his guts out, but he stumbled back to Reyes and dropped to his knees.

McCree took Reyes’ communicator and punched in the code for backup and medic. He dropped the device and checked for Reyes’ breathing and heartbeat.

McCree let out a weak sob when he realized that Gabriel was  _ okay _ – and promptly let the pain take over him.

．．．．．

“Hey, calm down,” Morrison put a hand on McCree’s shoulder when he woke up with a shout.

“Jesus Christ!” McCree yelled. One second he was staring into darkness, the next he was blinded by white lights, woken up by a pain so intense McCree swore he could black out all over again.

“The pain killer must have worn out,” Morrison got up and reached for the IV next to McCree’s bed. McCree turned away when Morrison injected something into it, the sight of drugs entering his body would always unsettle him. “I asked the nurse to leave some Morphine, but you have to wait a while before the pain completely – ”

“Where’s Reyes?” McCree choked out.

Morrison’s face softened. “Don’t worry, he told Athena to page him as soon as you wake up. He should be on his way now.”

“So…so he’s alright?”

“Yes, thanks to you,” Morrison replied. “The bullet was laced with some strong sedatives. If it hit a normal person, it’ll probably kill them instantly. They were trying to take Gabriel – we’re looking into it already, McCree – and if it wasn’t for you, he’ll…”

Morrison didn’t finish. McCree didn’t ask.

“Thanks, kid,” Morrison said, reaching out to pat McCree’s arm, but stop midair.

McCree turned his face and buried it in the pillow. If Morrison didn’t stop, McCree probably would have felt the contact, and the thought made him sick.

“I think I’m gonna puke,” McCree murmured.

“Swallow it,” a new voice said. McCree didn’t turn his head back, Reyes sounded furious.

The commanders exchanged a few words, and followed by the click of the door shutting.

“Look at me, McCree,” Reyes said.

McCree lifted his face from the pillow and met Reyes’ eyes. It was much nicer to look at them than the stump of his arm anyway, no matter how nervous he was.

“You scared me half to death, McCree,” Reyes sat on the edge of the bed, head low.

“M’ sorry,” McCree mumbled. The pain was still there, reminding him.

“Why would you do something so– so– ”

“Dumb?” McCree offered.

“Reckless,” Reyes said instead. “Why?”

“What? You saying I should just watch them take you?”

“I would have been fine, for fuck's sake, McCree, not at the expense of you blowing your arm off!”

McCree bit back angry tears, his nose stung. His head low, chest tight. “With all due respect, sir, I would gladly lose all my limbs if it means you’re alright.”

“Don’t say that,” Reyes snapped.

“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want,” McCree murmured, angry enough to lash out, but not brave enough to say it as more than a whisper. Hating that he sounded and felt like a kid again.

Reyes sighed.

McCree groaned, the drug finally kicked in. His eyelid dropped. A hand ran through his hair.

“You’re something else, Jesse,” Reyes said softly, a deep, smoky rumbles that went straight to Jesse’s heart.

_ Only for you, sir. _ McCree thought tiredly as he dropped his cheek onto Reyes’ shoulder. He thought he heard a chuckle, but was too distracted by the soothing touch in his hair to care.

 


End file.
